Returning
by Caged Bird
Summary: Faye comes back with memories in tow. My drabble on possibilities for the end of Cowboy Bebop.


Disclaimer: I don't own it. Never have, never will.

AN: drop me a line and tell me what you think. Or don't. I might have spelt Appledelhi wrong but MSword doesn't exactly have obscure characters from Adult Swim in its little built in dictionary. Anyways. Spelling, grammar and flightiness aside, enjoy.

* * *

The humidity as she stepped off the plane was oppressive, the air almost drinkable. The think silk of her dress immediately clung to her body as her hair went limp and frizzy at the same time. It was almost a memory of another time, sticking to her thoughts and mind like glue. A small breeze wafted up from the asphalt, suggestive in its promises but failing to deliver any relief.

The young woman scanned across the crowds of people, looking for her old friends. Although she should have been easy to spot. Not many had bright orange hair. Or a mechanical arm.

On the taxi ride back from the shuttle port no questions were asked, no reason given for the sudden visit. She was just there, sweltering with them in the summer heat, and that was all they needed to know. Of course the lack of air conditioning in the dilapidated yellow hunk of machinery was broken and the windows offered only slight reprise. But if this was the worst that her journey would be, that would be ok.

Sighing she shifted, looked at the smaller body in the seat to her left, and finally spoke to her male companion. "Look, Jet, I know it's been forever and I don't expect you to understand why I left or why I came back. I can't explain that to you or any of the decisions that I made. Just know that I thought they were for the best and nothing anybody could have done would have made any difference."

He also glanced to her left and looked her straight in the eye "Faye, I never asked you to explain."

And that was the end of the subject. Nothing more needed to be said.

It was early the next morning. The day had only started and the heat only started to rise, humidity coming with it. But it was pleasant for the moment. She was in the kitchen area of the Bebop with a solitary cup of coffee when Ed finally ceased her silence.

"I promised Jet and Ein and myself, mostly myself, that I would never speak to you again. You ran out on us, had no right to do so. I came back. I came back for you and Spike and partly me because Appledelhi was such a poor father. But I could have survived alone and you know it. And then you left."

"So why are you talking to me now?" Her diction had improved but the fire behind her amber eyes was still the same.

"Because Jet may understand but I don't. Why did you leave?"

"I had my reasons. If they're not entirely obvious maybe you should ask Jet for some education on such matters. But I don't need to explain myself to you. Or anybody."

"YOU LEFT! You were seven months pregnant and we were just getting used to being a FAMILY again and then we woke up and you were GONE. How could you? Do that to you or us or your son? You ran away. Couldn't fix whatever it was so just ran. Coward"

"Ed." Faye looked up from her now empty cup with a sigh. "I ran for a reason. There were, there are, too many memories here. Too many thoughts to raise a child. Surely you can understand that."

"No. No, I can't. Sure there were memories and ghosts and dreams but there was also family and friends. Didn't you need that? Don't you still?"

But Faye was still too proud to admit anything to anyone, too reluctant to confess a mistake, even if it was truth. However in this instance she didn't have to. All was revealed through her eyes.

It was almost a week later that the young woman with purple hair got up the courage to start facing her demons. The heat was still tangible in the atmosphere but dark clouds had risen, a final promise of rain. So she dressed herself and her brown-eyed son in their most respectful clothes, almost an attempt to feign a memory of a better life. Or recapture a dream. This time they took no cab, just took the short walk there with their thoughts. Or Faye had her thoughts. A nine month old child does not have much of anything save giggles and drools and cries and burps and a thousand other baby expressions that mean everything yet nothing.

Upon reaching the graveyard she followed the directions to the tombstone she needed. As an almost cool breeze swirled around her feet she began to speak.

"So Spike. Uum, it's me. I feel kind of silly for talking to a piece of rock with a name engraved upon it but hey, it's not like I can talk to you any other way. At least like this you can't answer back. In case you hadn't noticed this young man is your son. Spike meet Michael. Michael meet your father. Yes Michael, he was about this useful when he was alive too."

A sudden puff of cool air arose a few meters away; she could smell the rain it held from where she stood.

"Well, introductions are done I guess. Oh, he's got my last name. Michael Valentine has a much better ring to it than Michael Spiegel." The lack of reply took away any fun she might have had taunting him, and Faye regained whatever composure she might have lost with that sobering thought. "I don't know if you ever found out anything. Was it a dream or a memory or heaven or hell? Did you ever wake up from the dream? And was it worth risking your life? And ending it, I guess."

A small sigh from Michael heralded his last moment of consciousness before he fell asleep in his small stroller and Faye was left alone with the father of her son.

"He's got your eyes you know. And your nose. And his hair is almost green in the right light. But it's not a horrendous poof-ball, so thank the heavens for that. God I could use a cigarette right now. I gave them up, in case you couldn't tell. Apparently it's not good for child development."

"It was selfish of you, I suppose. To up and leave like that after I had pretty much confessed my heart to you. Also selfish of me to give my son my last name but you weren't exactly there to give much input on the subject. Hell you called out _her_ name when he was conceived. So I think I had the right to be selfish. And I have something of you that she never had and you two will never have. Never share it together. Unless everything's all happy flowers and butterflies in that dream that you ended up in, but I would guess it's not."

Her strength was reaching its end. To talk to the man who had never loved you would be taxing on even the most heartless of women. "So that's all. I hope you're happy. I'll try to be, if you care. And I'll make sure Michael is happy, I'll guarantee that with my life. Soul. Everything. So don't worry about him. Because I know you never would have worried about me."

Slowly the young woman with purple hair placed the bullet into the compacted dirt of the grave. "Turns out I had one more shot left. One more for myself. Maybe I was stronger than that or maybe a part of me knew Michael was already there. So now it's for you. Goodbye Spike. It may all be a dream but I have the strength to wake up. Without a flurry of bullets to help me along."

As she gathered up her sleeping son the heavens finally released their warm relief. And before the umbrella covered both you would never have been able to tell if those were tears running down her cheeks. Her first tears or her last tears. But the heat had finally broken and she was finally free. Dreaming or waking, it didn't matter.


End file.
